


A is for Aphyxiation

by HinaSohma



Series: Kinky ABCs [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Auto erotic asphxiation, Kinks, M/M, Masturbation, Slash, Smut, Verbal Humiliation, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 16:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2156715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinaSohma/pseuds/HinaSohma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam Explore the kinky ABCs Starting with Asphyxiation. Nineteen year old Dean is worried about Sam's bruises. Fifteen year old Sam has a kinky secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A is for Aphyxiation

'Take Care Of Sammy'

John said it every time he left and Dean took the words to heart. No one got any where near Sammy, supernatural or otherwise. Of course, Dean could only do so much about Sam's refusal to fight against the bullies that tormented him, sending him home with bruises. And Sam would never spill names. The ones on his throat are always the worse. It makes Dean nervous.

It's not until late one night, when Sam was fifteen, when Dean realized that maybe the bruises aren't from bullies. They're in an apartment. Dean was sleeping in the living room, they were taking turns in the one single bed, too small for the both of them. The tv is off, and there was no one in the house beside them to be making the wheezing sounds that could be heard. And suddenly Dean is overcome with the possiblity of the fact that something might have slipped past him.

He reached under the old couch's cushion,producing a hand gun. He cocked it, clicking off the safety as he carefully walked Into the hallway. He shoved open the door and flicked on the light to see his brother not engaged in some sort of brutal fight, but a very different scene.

Sam's own hand was wrapped firmly around his throat, tight. His face was red from lack of oxygen. His other hand was violently fisting his length, moving fast. Or it had been, until Sam's eyes flicked open, still glazed from lack of air and arousal. It takes a moment for him to process as his hand stopped pumping, the other releasing his own throat, red and purple marking the tanned skin. 

"Dean - -.." Sam choked out, not sure how to defend this. Something changed in Dean's eyes, going from concerned to feral. Bright green with need. He moved over, setting the gun on the night stand.

"I always knew you'd end up a little slut, Sammy. But this..." He clicked his tongue. "Never saw this coming." He moved over to bed, pushing the other's hand away from his throat, his thumb brushing over the bruising. 

"I... Dean." He whispered, looking up at him. Sam had pictured this in his head a thousand times. His older brother's hand wrapped around his throat, choking him until Sam saw spots, on the edge of orgasm just before he'd pass out. But now it was really a possiblity, and Sam couldn't help that his heart was beating fast. 

"You what?" Dean asked, moving to kneel on the bed next to him, his hand still stroking the bruises. "I bet you'd love to have some one else's hand around your throat, huh? Like a true slut."

Sam was silent. There was something about being called a slut that made Sam's heart pound, his cock throb. Or maybe it was just the way his brother said it. Holding out the 's' just a milisecond longer than usual, his lips curling into a smile. Sam was silent, but his hand snaked up to press the other's hand against his throat.

"Say it, Sammy. I want to hear you say it." He murmured softly, not applying any.pressure. Sam's eyes flickered between his. 

"Choke me, Dean." He whispered. That was all the encouragement Dean needed to wrap both of his hands around his younger brother's already bruised throat. Sam's hand resumed the brutal pace and tight grip he had had on his cock, staring up at Dean with glazed over eyes as he fought for air and gasped. 

Dean watched the colour of his face, loosening every so often to keep Sam from passing out, growing hard inside of his grey sweatpants. Sam wasn't sure what made him feel so hot about this. Was it the fact that Dean didn't have to stop, that if Dean chose, Sam would be unconsious or die? Or was it the lack of air, in all it's simplicity, that made him crazy?

The last time, Dean held him longer than usual. Sam's one hand coming up to scratch and claw, fighting to push him off. His other had pumped faster and faster, his eyes slipping shut. Sam came fast, and hard. Multiple spurts as black clouded his vision. Dean let go of his throat. "God, Sammy. You really are a little slut." He laughed, kissing his brother roughly, knocking the air out of him once more. Sam had been right. It had been so much hotter when it was brother's hand.


End file.
